Special Snowflake
by liketolaugh
Summary: On a snowy night in December, Allen and Cross head for an inn.


**A/N: *smile* I've been seeing a lot of Cross/Allen stuff on Tumblr lately. Really, this was kind of inevitable. *laugh* I love fluffy Cross and Allen, anyway.**

 **Title: Special Snowflake**

 **Author: liketolaugh**

 **Rating: K+**

 **Pairings: None**

 **Genre: Family**

 **Warnings: None**

 **Summary: On a snowy night in December, Allen and Cross make their way to an inn.  
**

 **Disclaimer: Like hell I own D. Gray-man.**

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For all the time spent in brothels and dives, arguing and yelling, Allen and Cross also spent a lot of time just walking. It took time, after all, to get from city to city. Sometimes they didn't even quite reach the next stop before dark.

Cross was always tense during the walks; Allen couldn't understand why, but then, his master was a very inscrutable person. It irritated him to no end - Allen valued his ability to read people more than almost any other skill he had.

Allen, on the other hand, kept his gaze cast to the ground, lost in thought and sometimes in memories, pensive in way he never let himself be if anyone else was around.

General Cross, strangely enough, always seemed to know when Allen was hiding something. So there was no point. Not with him.

Sometimes they were quiet, like they were now, and sometimes they argued in loud voices without real anger, just frustration or tiredness or hurt (mostly on Allen's side). Sometimes Cross used the time and distance to train Allen, making him run for as long and as far as he could, and sometimes they played, a stop-and-start game that let Allen run off any restlessness he might have left over, or Timcanpy swooping around both their heads.

Tonight, it was cold, and Timcanpy was hiding in Cross' hat because he hated the cold. Snow caked the ground and the sky was dark, but it was only a little further to the next town, and Cross knew a woman who he'd said would let them stay at least a night for free. He had better be right, because Allen was tired and his hands were too numb to cheat right now.

It had been two years since Allen had joined Cross Marian. He was almost twelve years old now, and he sometimes felt like he and Cross had been travelling together for half his lifetime. They'd certainly settled into enough of a routine.

"Stupid apprentice, what the hell's gotten into you?"

Allen started and looked up at his master with a frown. "What?" he asked petulantly. "I was thinking."

Cross gave him a strange look, pulling his cigarette from between his lips. "You can think?"

Allen scowled at him. "Shut up! Stupid master." He looked back to the front. "It's almost Christmas."

He could almost feel Cross' eyebrows twitch. "And?"

Allen swallowed and felt his eyes burn. The wind whipped his cheeks red and blew his white hair, which was dusted with snow. "I didn't get you anything," he said, almost defiantly.

"Whatever, stupid apprentice," Cross snorted, and the two of them lapsed back into silence. Allen's head was bent now, so that Cross couldn't possibly see his face. Just when he thought they'd go the rest of the way to town without saying another word, Cross said suddenly, "I didn't get you anything for Christmas, brat, but I got you something for your birthday."

Allen's head whipped up so fast Cross was sure he'd break his own neck, silver eyes wide. "You remembered?" the boy blurted out, visibly surprised. Cross felt a twinge of irritation.

"Of course I remembered," he sniped, looking away. Good thing he was taller than the brat, or this would look a lot less dignified and a lot more embarrassed. "Last year you sulked around for a week until I finally beat you with a wine bottle." Because that's what it took to get Allen to admit that anything was wrong. Some days it was hard to remember why he put up with it all.

Oh, right. To save all of humanity. Damn it.

"...Oh," Allen said softly, and Cross scowled at the strange note in his voice. What the hell was the kid thinking this time? "What is it?"

"You can find out on your goddamn birthday like every other kid." There'd only been one real good choice, anyway. The brat had been staring at every pair of gloves they'd passed, lingering at windows and in stores. It was goddamn embarrassing, was what it was.

Allen huffed, but the sound was strangely content, so all Cross did in response was roll his eyes, lifting his cigarette back to his lips.

Both males let the conversation fall, silence returning. Overhead, it started to snow again, in large, thick, slow flakes that settled in hair and on shoulders and melted. Cross was glad of his hat; it meant that he could just stand by and laugh as Allen futilely shook snowflakes and droplets of water from his hair.

"Master, it's not _funny!"_ Allen complained, reaching up with his left hand to brush the flakes away. They melted slower on his Innocence than they did on his flesh, so he had to shake it off of that, too. The boy shivered, and Cross scowled. Dammit, was the kid going to need a new coat, too? Why wouldn't he just _stop growing?_ "Brrr!"

"Stop whining, we're almost there," Cross tossed back, and sure enough, though it was obscured by the snowfall, they were in the town within a few more minutes.

Candlelight spilled out of some of the windows. It wasn't really enough to see by, but the accommodators' eyes had long since adjusted to the dim light of the full moon and the stars overhead, so they didn't have much trouble finding their way.

It took Cross no time at all to find the inn - for once not a brothel, unfortunately - and he knocked roughly on the door, staunchly refusing to shiver out of pure pride. He was a General, and he did not get _cold._

When Agnes started to take too long for his liking, he knocked again, and heard a frustrated "J'arrive! J'arrive!"

A moment later, he squinted as the door opened and candlelight blazed in his face. Lower down, he heard Allen squeak and felt a tug at his coat. Someday he was going to rid Allen of that nervous habit. He swore it. He swore it and yet he did nothing about it.

Then he turned his attention to Agnes and grinned lecherously, enjoying the play of emotions across the woman's face. First her eyes widened with surprise, and then she flushed with mortification, and finally, scowled at him accusingly.

"Cross Marian!" she said indignantly. Funny how many of his acquaintances greeted him that way. Still in French, she continued, "I have not seen you in five years. If you think you're getting room here tonight you're much mistaken."

Under normal circumstances, this might have concerned Cross at least a little. Fortunately, he now had a secret weapon.

Right on cue, Allen peeked around from behind his back, and Cross didn't even have to look to know that he was giving Agnes the wide-eyed, insecure orphan stare. Even _Cross_ fell for that one if he wasn't prepared.

"Miss Agnes?" Allen started, in tremulous French. That had been one of the first languages Cross taught him, but it had never been his best. "Did we wake you up?"

Agnes' glare softened instantly, of course, and while she gave Cross one sharp look to tell him that she knew what he was up to, she gave in almost instantly, which was all Cross cared about. He hated the snow and he hated winter. "Yes, but don't worry, child. What's your name?"

"Allen," Allen said quietly, emerging from behind Cross to smile shyly at Agnes. Cross stood back and enjoyed. He hardly ever had to work for lodgings anymore, that was one good thing about having Allen around. And then, without prompting, "I'm eleven, but almost twelve."

Cross cleared his throat, and Allen shook himself, discarding the snow, which _incidentally_ made him start shivering again. Agnes sighed.

"Well, I suppose I can admit you for tonight," she said grudgingly. "Come in, both of you, and we'll get you to bed. We _will_ be discussing this in the morning, Marian."

Finally. Cross wouldn't readily admit it, but he was exhausted - they'd been travelling all day, which was about twice as long as he'd wanted to. Goddamn snow.

"I'd expect nothing less," Cross agreed, with a wry twist of his lips.

Inside, Allen charmed Agnes into giving them both something warm to drink while she made up the scarcely-used guest bedroom. Because the brat had no staying power, he fell asleep against Cross while they were waiting, an empty mug tucked against his lap, mouth slightly open, breathing deep and even. Timcanpy wriggled out from under Cross' hat and settled on the brat's head, fluttering a few times before he settled, satisfied.

It occurred to Cross, suddenly, that when Neah stole the kid's body, he probably wouldn't ever be able to look him in the eye. Not after this.

Cross gulped down the last of the hot cocoa Allen had coaxed out of Agnes and wished it were something stronger. He'd think about it another time. That was a problem for future him to deal with, anyway.

For now, he just let the brat sleep. He'd yell at him for it later.

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 **Heh. *rubs back of neck sheepishly* ...They're cute. Sort of. When they're not yelling at each other. *laugh* Thanks for reading, and please review!**


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